


In All The Worlds

by amfiguree



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dragons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amfiguree/pseuds/amfiguree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragon!Fic.</p><p>Chris took aim, waiting for the next crucial step. But then the dragon emerged in its entirety, and Chris almost lost his hold on his weapon. "What the..." he trailed off as he lowered his crossbow and shifted slightly to get a closer look.</p><p>But there was no doubt about it: there was a man was on the dragon's back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In All The Worlds

“I _told_ you, didn't I? I _said_ this one's too big for you to handle on your own, Chris. Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?” Justin yanked on the bandage around Chris' arm a little harder than necessary as he spoke, and Chris winced.  
  
“Why don't you try that a little harder, J? I don't think my arm's completely broken yet,” Chris snapped. “And why the hell can't you just Spell it better?”  
  
Justin glared at Chris, tugging on the bandage again. “Oh, I don't know, because I don't have enough Power to fix a _three-inch deep_ wound?”  
  
“J,” Lance interrupted, before Justin actually went through with breaking Chris' arm, “I know you have enough Power to heal a cut like that, but if you won't, I will. I'm not going to sit around all day watching the two of you bicker like two-year-olds. So either fix it now, or move over. Joey’s going to be back soon with the brew, and you know it’ll be useless if you’re not done with Chris by then.”   
  
Justin rolled his eyes, but finally gave in. He murmured a few Spell words under his breath as he unwrapped the bandage, stroking his thumb gently around Chris' injury once the skin peeked through. After a second, he glanced up Chris with a frown. But Chris, who was very obviously not-looking back, never noticed.  
  
“What?” Lance asked, as though he’d sensed the sudden tension.  
  
Justin stared at Chris a moment longer, scrutinizing him. Then he shook his head and shrugged. “Just spaced out for a minute.”   
  
Lance didn't buy it for a second, but he nodded, anyway. “I'm going to get food for you and some Yao leaves for Chris. You'll be okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Justin said, quietly. He finished unraveling the rest of the bandage, and, once Lance had left the clearing, covered Chris' wound with his entire hand, pressing his free hand flat against the dirt, beginning to chant an entirely different Spell under his breath.  
  
Chris was still staring determinedly at the ring of trees five feet away.  
  
  
Four hours and seventeen minutes later, Lance came back to the clearing, a small cloth-wrapped bundle under one arm and a thick slice of dragon hide in the other. “Sorry I took a while. It was harder collecting the leaves than I thought, and we're almost out of dragon meat so I �" Justin? Justin? What - why aren't you done healing him?”  
  
Justin didn't look up from where he was bent over Chris, on his knees, both hands pressed to Chris' stomach. It was only then that Lance realized that Chris was spread out on the ground, arms flat and palms down, legs stretched out in an inverted 'V'.  
  
“Lance,” Chris croaked out, sounding panicked. “Stop him.”  
  
“Justin,” Lance said, feeling slightly alarmed as he dropped both the bundle and the meat, falling to his knees beside the pair. “Justin, why are you using the penta--oh, _fuck_.”  
  
“It was worse than I said it was. A lot worse,” Chris admitted. “I’ve tried to snap him out of it, but he used the Bonds, and now he's so fucking far gone I'm afraid to touch him in case he--”  
  
Lance nodded, and Chris shut up. Lance hadn't felt the magic till he'd knelt down, but once he had, he could practically see the force fields Justin had set up; they were that strong. That didn’t surprise Lance, anything less would have snapped under Chris’ mere strength of will. As it was, Chris' wrists and ankles were rubbed raw where he'd been struggling against them.   
  
“Damn idiot kid, he knows he's not strong enough for this kind of Spell,” Lance muttered, forcefully, attempting to reach over and jerk Justin out of his trance to take over himself.   
  
But before Lance could make contact, Justin made a loud, strangled noise and crumpled to the ground. There was no movement for a split second, then Lance was at Justin's side, checking to see if Justin was still breathing, if he still had a pulse.  
  
It seemed to take Chris a little longer to realize he was suddenly back in control of his own limbs, but Lance barely spared him a glance as he bolted upright, crawling over to Justin's side. “J,” he whispered, frantic hands searching Justin's body like he might have the Power to heal Justin, too. “Justin? _Justin_.”  
  
“Not gonna help, Christopher,” Lance chided, but his hands were shaking as well. Justin was deathly pale, and there was a dark red stain on his shirt where his hands were clenched together.   
  
Chris reached out to touch it, almost reverently. “Is that--”  
  
“No,” Lance cut in sharply, before Chris could finish his question. “It's your blood, thank god.”   
  
“What does he need?” Chris asked, when he found his voice again, when it didn't feel like he was going to break down sobbing or shove a knife down Lance's self-righteous throat.  
  
“Joey’s medicine bag,” Lance replied, holding his hand out for it. “Dammit, where the fuck is Joey when we need him?” He began to ruffle through it when Chris grabbed it and passed it over.  
  
“What else?” Chris asked, ignoring the panic he heard in his own voice.  
  
Lance paused, closing his eyes as he swept his hand quickly over Justin's forehead. There was silence for a minute, then, “dragon blood. Fresh.”  
  
“I'm on it,” Chris said with a curt nod, and went to retrieve the hunting equipment Justin had earlier haphazardly thrown into a muddy patch of ground when he'd found out about Chris' injury. Then he stood, intending to head towards the deeper part of the jungle that surrounded them, the part Lance and Justin tended to avoid.  
  
“Chris?” Lance's tone was biting, so Chris stopped without turning around. “You're supposed to be the best dragon-hunter there is. Try to live up to that this time.”  
  
  
Chris cleaned his crossbow and metal quivers carefully, then surveyed the rest of his equipment: dagger, empty Spelled vials, witty anger-inducing repartee. Check, check, check.   
  
The _Fuu_ Justin had blessed, tucked snugly in his pocket (“I know you think you’re good, but it’ll keep you safe, jackass.”). Check.  
  
Chris looked around, then, assessing his environment. By the looks of things, he was in luck. There were plenty of large rocks he could easily dodge behind to avoid any fire-breathing breeds, and, from his position on the hill overlooking the cave, he’d be able to monitor any movements the dragons made without the favor being returned.   
  
“Perfect,” Chris muttered, settling down and readying himself for a long wait.  
  
  
It was close to sunset before anything actually happened.  
  
Daylight was just beginning to fade when Chris felt the ground beneath him start to tremble. Immediately, he sat to attention, glancing over the edge of the cliff hiding him from direct view of the cave. The air filled with a too-familiar aura that left Chris' skin tingling, and a small, almost predatory smile curled his mouth. He hoisted his weapon over the rock he'd been sitting behind, tensing, waiting for the right moment.   
  
“All right, come on,” he breathed, tilting his head slightly to get a better angle. His grip tightened on the crossbow when a long blue snout appeared at the mouth of the cave. It was the same dragon that had injured him, he was sure. He recognized the dark green stain near its left nostril where he'd stabbed it before it could finish crushing his arm between its jaws during their first struggle.  
  
“Come on,” he murmured, as it took another tentative step into the open, revealing a portion of its neck. “Another coupla steps, come on... show me those wings.”   
  
The rest of the dragon's neck emerged, then its feet, and finally, the tip of a wing peeked through. “Gotcha.”  
  
Chris took aim, waiting for the next crucial step. But then the dragon emerged in its entirety, and Chris almost lost his hold on his weapon. “What the...” he trailed off as he lowered his crossbow and shifted slightly to get a closer look.  
  
But there was no doubt about it: there was a man was on the dragon's back.  
  
  
Lance was pacing when Joey finally made his way back to the clearing, which was the first giveaway sign that something had gone very, very wrong; Joey had never seen Lance actually panic in all the time they’d known each other. “Hey,” he called out, flinching at the expression on Lance’s face when the blonde halted in his tracks and turned to look at him.  
  
Lance’s composure seemed to crumble once he realized he wasn’t alone. “Joey.”  
  
“Hey,” Joey repeated soothingly, “What--”   
  
His words died in his throat when Lance stepped forward. Justin was lying on the ground behind him, curled up on his side like he was trying to disappear. He looked… fragile.   
  
Joey went to Justin immediately, kneeling beside him as he checked for wounds. “His pulse is erratic, but it doesn’t look like he’s physically injured,” he muttered, gazing up at Lance. “What happened?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” Lance said tightly, jaw clenched. “Just fix him.”  
  
Joey turned his attention back to Justin. There were several blankets piled on top of him, but he was still shaking, hands balled into tight fists against his chest. Joey wiped the cold sweat from Justin’s forehead, gently, and that seemed to calm his incoherent murmuring for a minute.   
  
“I need--”  
  
“I know,” Lance interrupted, curtly. “I’m on it.”  
  
“We need to buy him some more time,” Joey said, worrying at his lower lip.  
  
“What we need is a hospital,” Lance bit out, swiping a hand angrily over his eyes.   
  
Joey kept his eyes on Justin, giving Lance the privacy he needed. “We don’t have that kind of luxury in this World.”  
  
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Lance snapped, but his knees were buckling before Joey could reply, and he sank to the ground beside Justin, clutching to the fabric of Joey’s sleeve in a white-knuckled grip. “If Chris doesn’t get back soon, I don’t - he might not…”  
  
“It’s not that bad,” Joey said, sharply, his hands roaming over Justin’s neck and chest. He was an herb-gatherer by profession, but the past five years he’d spent with the group -- with Lance -- had taught him more than enough. “He’s fine. He just needs rest, and some brew.”  
  
“His Power is fading, Joe,” Lance’s voice was quiet, so quiet that Joey couldn’t tell if it was trembling, or if that was just his imagination. “I can barely sense his _zhenqi_.”  
  
Joey threaded a hand through Justin’s soft curls. They were the color of rich, summer fields, and they spilled over his fingers like sunlight. “One hour,” Joey said, finally, glancing up at the rapidly darkening skies. “We’ll give him one more hour.”  
  
  
The sun had completely set by the time Chris made it to the bottom of the hill. During that time, both the dragon and its rider had retreated to the safety of the cave. _Strange,_ Chris thought, _aren’t they going to hunt tonight?_  
  
Chris had barely taken another step forward when he was flung back onto the ground so suddenly and with such force that he was left gasping for breath.   
  
“Dammit,” he wheezed, pushing himself up on one elbow. That was the second time he’d been careless in two days. _Just careless_ , he told himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was getting older, or that his instincts were nothing like they’d used to be, no, that was not it at--  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
 _Oh, shit._ Chris looked up, straight into a startlingly gorgeous face. A pair of stunning blue eyes stared back at him, so dark and unforgiving that, for a moment, Chris was completely blind to everything else.  
  
“Who are you?” the stranger repeated, still eyeing Chris warily, when Chris didn’t respond. “Why didn’t the dragon sense you?”  
  
“Who are _you_?” Chris countered, sitting up a little, trying to hide the way his hands were still shaking from his fall. “And how did you just do whatever the hell you just did to me?”  
  
The other man took a step forward, his hands outstretched. His expression was hard; even the way his darkish, wavy hair fell into his eyes did nothing to soften it. “I’ll do it again if you don’t start talking.”  
  
Chris was nothing if not an expert at instinct, and instinct was telling him that the crossbow he had hidden behind his back was not going to hold up against what he could only assume were telekinetic powers. “I’m Christopher. Chris,” he replied, finally, “I just happened to walk past and--”  
  
His attacker waved a hand, and Chris was cut off abruptly, shoved roughly back against the ground by a force he couldn’t see, much less protect himself from. “I was dragon watching and saw you--”  
  
This time, the strength of the blow Chris took almost choked him. It didn’t let up and he had to strain to speak. “Need… blood,” he rasped, feeling his chest tighten as he struggled for air. “I… I hunt.”  
  
The other man retracted his hand, and Chris doubled over, gasping for breath. When he looked up again, his attacker was shaking his head. “I should’ve known,” he hissed furiously as he backed away. “You’re just here to check that you got the job done.”  
  
“Please,” despite his breathlessness, the desperation in Chris’ voice couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d tried, “Please, wait, you don’t understand.”  
  
“What don’t I understand?” The stranger raised his voice, eyes flashing with anger, and something else Chris couldn’t pinpoint (pain?). “It’s _done_. I can’t fix them. It’s only a matter of months before they - before they’re all…”  
  
Chris felt his stomach bottom out at the look on the other man’s face. He was on his feet so quickly his head spun. “What? What are you saying?”  
  
The man barked a laugh, so bitter Chris could almost taste it in the bile rising at the back of his throat. “What do you think I’m saying? They’re dying! They’re dying thanks to sick, Power-hungry bastards like you and--”  
  
The low, strangled noise Chris made stopped the other man from saying any more. “All of them?” Chris whispered, disbelievingly. “Oh, god. Oh, my god.”  
  
  
The World was pitch-black, and silent. Justin grimaced as he tried to get his bearings. _Chris?_ His entire body ached like he’d been attacked by ten dragons all at once. When nothing became any clearer, his chest tightened. _Shit,_ he panicked, _Shit, shit, shit. I’ve been Taken again._  
  
Justin tried to move. He couldn’t. His body felt like it weighed about four hundred pounds more than usual.   
  
Then suddenly, the World spun, like it had been tilted on its axis. Justin let his eyes fall shut as he fought the urge to hurl. But he could feel hands on him now, probing but gentle, guiding him till he was leaning against a warm, solid surface.  
  
 _Chris?_ It still felt like everything was spinning around him, but his need to vomit was starting to subside. Then someone tipped his head back, filling his mouth with the vilest liquid he’d tasted in his life, and Justin lost it.  
  
  
“That’s the last of it,” Joey said, carrying a wooden bowl full of liquid over to Lance. Justin was propped up against him, head tilted back to rest on Lance’s shoulder.   
  
“No,” Justin groaned, weakly, his eyelids fluttering as his head lolled to the side.  
  
Lance frowned as he looked up at Joey, who shook his head. “He threw up, twice. He needs to keep this lot down.”  
  
Lance looked at the bowl and bit his lip, obviously torn. “But his Power--”  
  
“Joey! Joey, are you back yet?” The sound of Chris’ impatient yelling cut Lance off, and a moment later, Chris flew into the clearing with an unfamiliar face in tow. Joey rose to his feet. Chris had the oddest look on his face, one Joey couldn’t decode, and his breathing was labored. “Joey, you have to help him! He says the dragons are all dying but Justin needs their blood they can’t be dying you have to figure something out Joey god please say you can fix this!”  
  
“Chris?”  
  
Chris turned, sharply, at the sound of Justin’s voice. The relief was palpable in his face when he realized that Justin was awake. He was by Justin’s side in an instant, his hands shaking as he took over Lance’s position, speaking to Justin in a low undertone meant only for their ears.  
  
Joey hardly noticed, though. His eyes had been drawn to the man who’d been standing quietly behind Chris, eyes downcast, cooing at the little bundle he was carrying in his arms. Joey took a cautious step forward, brow furrowed. He wasn’t sure he believed what he was seeing.  
  
But then the other man looked up, and Joey _knew_. He huffed with incredulous laughter. “JC?”  
  
“Oh my god,” JC’s eyes were wide. “Oh, my god, _Joey_?”  
  
“I don’t believe this,” Joey said, voice shaking with the uncertainty of it all. “I thought - all this time -- we all thought…”  
  
JC smiled, but Joey could’ve spotted the shadow cloaking his eyes from a mile away. “Well,” JC shrugged, executing a half-hearted little pirouette, “I’m obviously fine.” He nodded towards the pile of blankets he was cradling in his arms. “She’s the one who needs help. And from what I hear, you’re the man for the job.”  
  
“Hey,” Lance called, interrupting them before Joey could reply. When they turned, they saw that he’d set up a fire, close to Chris and Justin, and was preparing dinner. “It looks like you two have a lot of catching up to do, so you might as well do it warm.”  
  
  
They settled quickly by the fire, though JC was obviously desperate to show Joey what, exactly, he had with him. Joey wasn’t taking the bait, though. He had that look on his face, the one Lance had coded ‘I’m-still-trying-to-absorb-this’, and Lance could tell it would be awhile before JC got to do his little show-and-tell.   
  
Lance glanced over at Chris, to see if he knew what JC’s agenda was. It didn’t seem like he was going to get much help there, though. Chris was sitting by Justin, the younger man’s head propped up on his knee. “If you ever do that to me again, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he was muttering.  
  
“Like you haven’t said that before,” Justin retorted, with a small smile. “Whose fault is this, anyway?”  
  
Lance’s expression softened as Chris leaned over to brush his lips over Justin’s temple, then he shook his head, and went back to stirring his pot of stew. After a second, he frowned. Something didn’t smell right. He stepped away from the pot once he recognized the odor.   
  
But it couldn’t be… Dragon poison? In the stew?   
  
His eyes flashed when everything clicked into place. “What in the bloody Worlds did you bring here?” he demanded, whirling around and advancing on JC.   
  
Joey’s head shot up. “What?”  
  
“Wyvern poison,” Lance gritted out, his eyes never leaving JC’s face. He folds his arms across his chest.  
  
JC looked back at him, wordlessly, as though he was assessing him.  
  
“Don’t be an idiot, Lance,” Chris said loudly, from behind them, breaking the moment. “It’s just a Faerie.”  
  
Lance’s frown deepened, but he didn’t turn around. “What?”  
  
“She’s been poisoned,” JC replied, finally, getting to his feet. He held out the blankets and let Lance carefully peel them away. “By a Wyvern.”  
  
“Wait, what?” That was Joey. “A dragon poisoning one of its own kind? That doesn’t sound right.”  
  
“Things haven’t been right for a long time,” JC told him, wearing a dark expression. “She’s not the only one who’s been poisoned.”  
  
Lance swore under his breath as he uncovered the Faerie dragon. They were rare, supposedly the rarest type of all dragons, and for a second, Lance didn’t know what to say. She was clearly in pain; she was lying on her side on JC’s palm, her butterfly-like wings beating faintly against his skin. Her eyes were closed.   
  
“Give her to me,” Lance commanded, but his touch was tender when he took the dragon from JC.   
  
“Joey,” Lance said, with a tilt of the head, and Joey was beside him in a second. They studied the dragon for a minute, exchanging a glance to make sure they were on the same page, then nodded.  
  
JC swallowed hard when neither of them spoke, tugging at his hair. “She’s - can you heal her?”  
  
Lance lifted his eyes to JC’s. “No,” Joey admitted quietly, as he ran a finger down the small, scaly body, and JC’s face fell. “But I can stop the poison from spreading, at least temporarily.”  
  
JC’s eyes were closed, and he let out a quiet breath before nodding. “That’s more than I can do,” he murmured, and when he opened his eyes again they were full of the respect and gratitude he hadn’t voiced.  
  
  
It took Joey about an hour to figure out what he’d need for his concoction. It was a short, but difficult, list.  
  
Lance eyed it, warily. “I don’t think you’ve done anything like this since the last time Chris fell sick. How long will it take to get everything?”  
  
“A week,” Joey guessed, but his answer was directed at JC. “It wouldn’t take this long, not usually. But I’ve got to be back here every night, just in case. With Justin so out of it, I don’t want to take any chances.”  
  
JC looked like he might protest, but then he glanced over at Justin. Joey knew he saw it, too. Justin had made progress since they’d first seen him, but his skin was still a shade too pale and his eyes were duller than usual. And because of Justin’s condition, Chris was more or less useless, as well.   
  
“I can’t leave them alone with Lance unprotected for one day, much less a week.”  
  
JC shook his head, like he couldn’t believe Joey was joking at a time like this.  
  
“He’s serious,” Lance said, dryly, and JC looked up. “I’d kill them. And right now they’re not strong enough to stop me.”  
  
JC opened his mouth to speak, but Joey held up a finger. He already knew what JC was about to say. “You’re staying here, for as long as it takes to get the brew ready. And you don’t have to bring anything when we set off tomorrow. I’ve got it covered.” Joey tossed his head in the direction of the fire. “Now go, take care of her.”  
  
Lance frowned at Joey as JC did as he’d been told. “Joe. Do you know what you’re doing?” They both knew he wasn’t talking about the brew.   
  
Joey took a deep breath, his eyes fixated on JC. “Not a clue.”  
  
  
The voice seemed to come from out of nowhere. _Joshua?_  
  
JC didn’t take his eyes off the semi-conscious Faerie dragon laid out in front of him. _I’m fine, babe. I think they can help us. We’ll have to see if this one pulls through._ His finger slid gently over her wings.   
  
_Be careful._  
  
JC chanced a smile. _When am I not?  
  
You know I worry about you._ Pause. _I presume that’s the famous Joseph?_  
  
JC’s smile softened, just a hint, as he looked over at where Joey was talking to Lance. _That’s Joey._  
  
  
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Justin awoke the next morning. He scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat up slowly, then glanced over at Chris, who was curled up beside him. He felt a little better than he had the previous night: at least his head had stopped pounding.   
  
Still. Something wasn’t right. He was sure of it. And he’d learned by now that trusting his gut instinct was a necessity, not a choice. Panic alarms were beginning to go off in his head now, alarms Justin realized had been ringing ever since he’d regained consciousness the day before. They were a lot more prominent now than they had been then.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Justin startled at the sound of Joey’s voice, looking up with a weak smile. “Hey yourself.”  
  
Joey’s expression was odd, almost wary, as he approached Justin. “Feeling any better this morning?”  
  
Justin nodded, but he wasn’t sure if it was a lie. He glanced around, searching for a way to change the subject. It was only then that he realized JC was on the opposite end of the clearing, filling two waterskins. “You’re leaving already?”  
  
“Yeah,” Joey nodded, still eyeing Justin carefully.  
  
“I can come with, if you need me,” Justin offered, sitting up a little straighter, hoping to ease some of the worry he saw in Joey’s face. He covered a patch of soil with a hand. “I feel fine, I promise.”  
  
Joey physically flinched, and it took Justin a moment to realize that nothing had happened. His eyes were wide as he turned to look -- really look -- at the soil beneath his skin. He didn’t feel a thing: not the pulse of the Earth, not the tingling at his fingertips, not the sudden surge of serenity he usually felt when he was this close to nature. It was almost as if someone had planted a ten foot wall between him and the rest of the World.  
  
There was a long, awkward silence, and Justin felt wetness on his cheeks even before he looked up. “Joey?”  
  
“J,” Joey shook his head, like he couldn’t find the words. “We didn’t have a choice.”  
  
  
The trek into the forest was terse, and silent. Joey’s mind was still on Justin, and he was so used to traveling solo that he barely noticed JC’s presence. It was almost noon before he came to a halt, glancing over his shoulder at JC. He’d kept up a grueling pace, but JC seemed to be managing pretty well.   
  
“Take five?”  
  
JC studied him for a moment as he came up beside him. “How far do we have to go?”  
  
“An hour’s walk,” Joey estimated, glancing up at the sun. “Maybe more.”  
  
JC’s crusty exterior seemed to crumble a little when he hesitated. “Are you tired?”  
  
Joey chuckled; he’d been doing this for as long as he could remember being in this World. “Is that a trick question?”  
  
The steely expression returned to JC’s face. “Then we keep moving.”  
  
Joey acquiesced, though he made sure to slow the pace a little when JC’s breathing became uneven. It took another hour and a half for them to find what they were looking for, and by that time JC looked a little pale, though he was doing his best to hide it.  
  
“Is that it?” he asked, breathlessly, nodding towards an odd tree. Its branches were old and gnarled, and its bark was so dark in color that it seemed like it had dried up.   
  
“Yeah, that’s the Yezishu,” Joey replied, with a nod. It bloomed only once every seven months, bright pink flowers that wilted almost instantaneously. Once that had happened, the tree wrapped its branches around the fruit, so tightly that they became almost impossible to pluck.   
  
“Be careful,” Joey warned, resisting the urge to reach out and support JC when he swayed on his feet, “Or you could lose a hand to this tree.”  
  
JC just nodded in reply, and set to work. Joey quickly found that JC was a great worker, if a little on the quiet side. They hardly spoke a word to each other once they started picking the fruit, which were hard and brown and covered in small, spiky hairs.  
  
“ _Fuck,_ ” JC swore, suddenly, and Joey turned just in time to see him wince.  
  
“No, wait!” Joey was on his feet in a second. “Don’t move!”  
  
But it was too late. JC was cradling his hand, and it was bleeding, three deep, angry lines running down the side of his palm.   
  
Joey shook his head as he knelt beside JC, inspecting the gashes. “This looks pretty bad.”  
  
“I’ve seen worse,” JC reassured him, shutting his eyes for a second. He muttered something under his breath, and the wound began to heal itself. Joey gaped for a second, but by the time JC opened his eyes, he’d recomposed himself.  
  
“There are less painful ways to break the ice, you know,” was all he said.  
  
JC looked at him incredulously, but Joey could feel himself smiling, and then the corners of JC’s mouth twitched as well, and Joey was suddenly feeling ridiculously cheerful for someone in his situation.  
  
  
They spent the better part of the next hour collecting the rest of the fruit that they needed, glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes and talking about nothing, carefully avoiding everything that needed to be avoided. It was difficult, because there was so much Joey wanted to know, so much to find out.  
  
But the silences were comfortable, not suffocating, and sometimes JC even smiled at the things that were coming out of Joey’s mouth, and that was better than nothing.  
  
  
Chris was waiting impatiently for them when they returned that evening. “Well, you two look like you’re getting along,” he commented, when they handed him both their satchels. He tossed them over his shoulder at Lance without looking, forcing Lance to dive to catch them before they hit the ground and damaged the fruit inside.  
  
“So,” Chris went on, ignoring Lance’s annoyed ranting as he followed JC to where his Faerie dragon was sleeping by the fire, “Hey.”   
  
JC looked at him apprehensively, then diverted his attention back to the dragon. “Hi.”  
  
“So was there any hanky-panky on that hill that the rest of us should know about?” The word ‘off-limits’ did not exist in Chris’ dictionary, not even with virtual strangers. Unfortunately, Chris found his propensity for sharing wasn’t always returned. “Too private, huh? That’s fine. Hey Joey! _Joey_!”  
  
“What?” Joey yelled back, from where he was helping Lance clean the fruit.  
  
“Did you and JC get it on today?”  
  
“What?” That was JC.  
  
“I’m sure you’d like to know.” The calmer, more flippant response was Joey. “Now will you stop your voyeurism and cook our damn dinner?”  
  
“But it’s supposed to be Lance’s turn this week!” Chris whined, walking over to them and leaving JC to brood alone.  
  
Lance threw his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ll roast the damn thing if you skin this crap! All of it!”  
  
“Deal!” Chris chirped, with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.  
  
Lance looked like he was about to protest, but then he just shook his head and mimed throwing a Yezishu fruit at Chris’ head.  
  
Chris was too busy staring at Justin, who was silently tending the fire, to notice.  
  
  
Joey knew he should’ve known that something was up when Chris had given in to Lance’s request so easily. For all his apparent insanity, Chris was intelligent. Dangerously, deadly so. Joey eyed him uneasily as they continued to skin the fruit together, in silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
  
“Something’s wrong with J,” Chris said finally, a hint too casual, and Joey felt his heart plummet to his feet. He hasn’t said a word to me all day, and he’s poking at that fire with a damn stick. An actual _stick_.” Chris’ tone was growing sharper, but he was still cleaning the fruit, his body language relaxed. “I tried grilling Lance earlier, but he’s not budging, and if you tell me you don’t know anything, either, I’m going to stick this Yezishu fruit into someone’s eye.”  
  
Thankfully, JC yelped loudly before Joey could reply, and that gave Joey all the excuse he needed to slip away from under Chris’ watchful eye. “Oh my god,” JC was saying, when Joey sidled up to him and Lance, “That - is that _dragon_ meat?”   
  
“Yes.” Lance was completely unruffled as he put the slice of raw meat over the fire and began to roast it.  
  
JC made a small, pained sound at the back of his throat, excusing himself so he could go and throw up. He didn’t resume his place by the fire.  
  
  
Justin wished he’d had the presence of mind to leave, as well. Lance and Joey had been sneaking him guilty looks all night, and Chris was watching him like a hawk. That morning’s revelation had left him hollow, and he was waiting for it to sink in before he tried to explain it �" or dismiss it �" to anyone.  
  
He sighed, and Chris sat up a little straighter. “What?” he snapped, when Lance and Joey nodded at him. He glanced at Chris. “I’m not feeling so good. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”  
  
Chris stood, following him without a word. Justin hesitated for a moment, but didn’t protest, sketching a wave goodnight at both Joey and Lance.   
  
It was only after Lance had said goodnight as well, and he was left alone, that Joey wondered where JC had gone.  
  
  
It was much later that night when JC reappeared. Joey was grinding the Yezishu fruit by what little light the dying fire provided. He looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, and offered a smile when he saw who it was. “Hey.”  
  
JC glanced over at him, nodding in greeting.   
  
“Did you get something to eat?”  
  
Again, a nod.  
  
“Couldn’t sleep, huh?”  
  
The night was hot and humid, but JC’s arms were wrapped around himself like he was trying to keep the cold out, and he only managed a weak smile in Joey’s direction. “Yeah,” he said, finally, “I guess I’m just worried about them.”  
  
It was the longest sentence JC had spoken yet. “I know how you feel.”  
  
JC looked at Joey, his eyes unreadable. “I’ve seen you with them,” he said finally, holding Joey’s gaze, “And if you’d lost Justin, you’d be left with two brothers to help you put the pieces back together. If I lose them…” JC trailed off, turning to watch the sky. “If I lose them, I’ve got nothing left.”  
  
Joey studied him for a moment, then murmured, “I wouldn’t say that.”   
  
He’d turned back to grinding the fruit before he could see JC’s reaction.  
  
  
The next day, they set off even earlier than they had the first morning. “We have two things on the list today,” Joey told him, as they set out across the same route. “And just so you know? Yesterday was a walk in the park compared to this.”  
  
JC actually chuckled. “Take your best shot.”  
  
  
For some reason, JC was a lot more relaxed today than he had been before. He initiated conversations, and laughed, and seemed like he was actually enjoying Joey’s company, so the two hours it took for them to reach their destination flew by.   
  
“Here she is,” Joey said, finally coming to a halt, “In all her glory.”  
  
JC frowned as he surveyed the piece of barren land before his eyes. “What are we looking for again?”  
  
“Maomaocong,” Joey replied, taking a deep breath of fresh air.  
  
“You mean the actual worms.” It wasn’t a question.  
  
“Yep.” Joey raised two small metal canister, and handed one of them to JC. “And we need a lot of them, so get cracking.” He knelt down, and began turning the fresh, muddy soil over.  
  
To his credit, JC only flinched when Joey pulled out an actual Maomaocong. They were huge, hairy thumb-sized worms, with six legs, and twice as many feelers. Some were white, some were brown, and some were a mixture of the two colors. They were harmless, but they made the most god-awful hissing noises and secreted a slimy green substance when they felt threatened.  
  
They were starting to surface now that their breeding ground had been broached, and they were beginning to swarm around Joey.  
  
“Hey,” Joey said, gently, when a couple of minutes had passed and JC still hadn’t moved. “I can handle this part alone if you don’t want to, okay? It’s fine. I doubt even Chris would do this.”   
  
JC shut his eyes for a minute, gathering himself. Then he inhaled, sharply, grit his teeth and got on his knees.  
  
  
“Is this it?” JC asked, some time later, as he dusted himself off and picked up his Maomaocong-filled canister.   
  
Joey nodded, clamping the lid tightly over his own canister. “We’re done here, at least.”  
  
JC raised an eyebrow, and Joey could see he was trying desperately not to think about the fact that he was covered waist down in green slime, or the fact that he could still hear faint hissing coming from his canister and the remaining few Maomaocong still pooled at their feet.  
  
“So let’s get you cleaned up,” Joey told him. “And then go Putao picking.”  
  
“Putao picking?”  
  
Joey smiled, a tired ‘you’ll see’ smile, “Let’s just say I like to get the tough things done with first. Then we move on to the tedious.”  
  
It wasn’t that Putaos were hard to pick, per se. But Putao bushes were found only on the very edge of the forest, right beside a steep cliff. Joey preferred not to think about the consequences of making one wrong move. Then there was their size. Justin had once said that Putaos were “miniscule”, and he wasn’t wrong. Each Putao bush was home to hundreds of purple berries, but picking them took skill - too much pressure could flatten the Putao - and time. Time Joey knew JC was sure they didn’t have.  
  
  
It was during the journey to the Putao bushes that JC heard her again. _Are you making progress?_  
  
He glanced at Joey surreptitiously, then shook his head. _I think so, but I can’t be sure, babe. We’ll have to wait and see.  
  
So you trust him?_  
  
JC bit his lip, his eyes on Joey’s back. _With my life.  
  
Remember, it is not merely your own you gamble with.  
  
I know, babe._ The corners of JC’s mouth tightened. _I’ll be careful this time._  
  
  
“Dammit,” JC cursed, with a shake of the head, as he accidentally squashed yet another Putao. “I’m useless at this alchemist thing, aren’t I?”  
  
Joey bit back a smile as he dropped another berry into his bag. “Pretty much.”  
  
“I’m beginning to wonder how I survived at all,” JC muttered. He sighed when yet another Putao was crushed between his fingers.   
  
Joey raised his head at that, staring at JC keenly. He hadn’t asked yet, but the question had been bugging him for days. “So,” he said, trying not to let anything but simple curiosity show in his voice, “I was wondering, I mean. When the dragons came, and we left… how - how did you -- I mean, we were so sure you’d--”  
  
“Died?” JC interrupts, matter-of-factly. He stared at purple stain on his fingers left from the countless berries he’d destroyed, refusing to look Joey in the eye. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But they didn’t hurt me. They razed the village to the ground but they didn’t touch me. I guess you could say they took me in.”  
  
Joey tilts his head, thoughtfully. “But how did you manage all these years, alone?”  
  
JC plucked a Putao and held it up to the light, wearing a small smile. “What do you know? I think I may finally be getting the hang of this.”  
  
Joey dropped the subject.   
  
  
Meanwhile, Justin was trying to make his way out of the clearing without alerting Chris, and he was two steps away from success when he was stopped by the sound of Chris’ voice. “Are we going to keep playing this game, or are you finally going to tell me why you’re pretending the rest of the World doesn’t exist?”  
  
Justin felt his shoulders slump. He didn’t turn around. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“I’d like to know, too.” Chris was getting closer. “You think you could help me figure out the answer? It’s around here somewhere.” Chris was in front of Justin now, and he tip-toed as he raised his hand. “About yea high, crazy blonde hair, gorgeous, oh, and this is the giveaway: he’s got a seal over his mouth.” Two fingers snuck beneath Justin’s chin and tipped his head up. “Sound familiar?”   
  
Justin swallowed, hard, as he took a shaky breath. There was a beat of silence, but he met Chris’ eyes, forcing a smile. “Sure. I think I left him by that lake over there.”  
  
Chris scrutinized his face for a second, frowning, and Justin fought to keep his gaze from wavering. “Can I go see him?”  
  
A longer pause, then Justin stepped back, letting Chris’ hand fall from his cheek. He was sure Chris could see the shadows beneath his eyes, and the ones in them. “Not right now,” he said, finally, turning before Chris could change his mind.   
  
  
“Another day or two and we should have all the Putaos we need,” Joey stated, almost proudly, as he hitched his satchel carefully over his shoulder.  
  
JC laughed, and Joey had never heard a more relieved sound in his life. “I don’t know how you do this every--” Whatever JC had intended to say was cut off when he let out a sudden shout, and fell backwards.   
  
“JC!”   
  
“Get the fuck off me! Get off me!” JC was shouting, limbs flailing as he struggled against his attacker, so it took Joey a moment to spot the Wyvern dragon that had grabbed hold of his shoulders. It wasn’t an adult - it was barely an eight foot fledgling - but it was obviously strong. Its wings were huge for its size, and its tail was thrashing about as wildly as JC was, trying to get a clear shot, to inject its poison into JC’s body.   
  
Joey ran forward, instinctively, but a deafening roar filled the air before he made the distance. The Wyvern, traumatized, released JC with a squawk. But the momentum of the struggle threw JC off the cliff and Joey let out a loud, angry bellow. “JC!”  
  
Joey felt his knees go weak. _Oh my god. Oh, no. No._  
  
Then there was a sudden gust of wind, and Joey’s head shot up like a light. _What in the Worlds… oh, damn and bloody hell._   
  
It was JC.  
  
“Move, Joseph,” JC’s eyes were blazing, and his voice sounded nothing like his own, but that wasn’t what held Joey rooted to the spot. It was the fact that he was on a dragon’s back, one of the most massive, magnificent creatures Joey had ever seen. “ _Move._ ”  
  
Joey’s feet moved of their own accord, and, without thinking, he threw himself onto the ground, tucking his head under his hands and concentrating on curling his body up to make it as small as humanly possible. It took all of two seconds for the Wyvern to realize it was overwhelmed, and it squawked, trying desperately to find a means of escape.  
  
“I’m going to kill you,” JC was still speaking in that odd, almost feminine voice, and there was no trace of emotion in his tone.   
  
The dragon roared again, more fiercely, and Joey felt the gust of searing heat shoot past him. He didn’t need to look to know it had consumed its victim whole.  
  
He stayed motionless for another minute. When he finally stood, he was trembling all over, and JC was standing with his back to him, caressing his dragon with a calm, almost affectionate, hand. There was a wound near its left nostril, and Joey wondered, numbly, what force of nature had had enough strength to wound such an imposing creature.  
  
“I’m a dragon rider,” JC said, after a moment of silence, without turning around. “And this is Jayla, my dragon.”  
  
“I guessed,” Joey replied, surprised at the steadiness of his voice. It was the only part of his body that wasn’t shaking.  
  
JC leaned in, whispering in Jayla’s ear, and she gave Joey a final knowing look before spreading her wings and taking flight. Joey’s eyes were drawn to her movement involuntarily, and when he looked back, JC was staring at him.  
  
What was he supposed to say? What _could_ he say?  
  
“They’re still safe,” JC muttered, at last, when the silence had stretched, and he held out his satchel of Putaos. “But I think it’d be best if you held on to them from now on.”  
  
  
The walk home was eerily quiet. Joey could hear the sound of JC’s even breathing as they made their way back to the clearing, and all he could think of was the fact that JC was a dragon rider. A _dragon rider_. His dragon �" Jayla �" had waited millenniums, probably longer, for his arrival, just to hatch, just to name him her rider.   
  
They were tied together forever.  
  
  
It was a mile away from the clearing before Joey finally spoke. “JC, I--”  
  
“Don’t,” JC cut in, shaking his head vehemently. “Don’t, okay?”  
  
“Why the fuck not?” Joey demanded violently, as he stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face JC. “Why can’t we talk about this? You - you’re a dragon rider, for Christ’s sake! I--”  
  
“I need to cure them, Joe! They’re dying!” JC exclaimed, his cool façade finally cracking as his fists clenched and unclenched by his side, “All the Western dragons are drugged up with Wyvern poison and that - that _idiot_ bravado you saw probably cost her more than she can afford! And I can’t - I don’t,” he shook his head, his voice cracking. “Please, just help me fix her.”  
  
He pressed his fingers to his eyes. Joey bit his lip. After a moment, he covered JC’s shoulder with a hand, and squeezed gently.  
  
  
Lance knew there was something wrong from the second Joey handed him the canisters and the satchels. His mouth was pulled in a taut line, and JC looked even paler than Justin had unconscious. Joey made a beeline to the lake, and JC headed straight for his Faerie dragon. Neither of them spoke, so Lance left them alone and set about making dinner.  
  
It was only later, when they were gathered around the fire, that Lance broached the subject of dragons again. He glanced at JC as he jabbed at a rack of meet with a wooden stick and hung it over the fire. “So. Have you gotten over yourself or are you gonna starve again?”  
  
JC flinched. “I don’t eat dragon,” he said quietly, but his voice was firm. “Thank you. I’ll prepare my own meal.”  
  
At those words, two faces whipped towards him.  
  
“Wait, what? You _cook_?” Justin’s look was beseeching.  
  
“Is there some reason you didn’t mention this to us earlier?” Chris demanded, as he shoved Lance away from the flames, managing to not look at Justin the entire time. “A secret desire to see us all poisoned by our current chef, maybe?”  
  
Lance glowered. “Well I don’t see anyone else offering to do the dirty work.”  
  
Joey cleared his throat loudly when Chris looked like he was about to retort, glaring fiercely at them, and tilting his head as discreetly as he could in JC’s direction.  
  
“Oh!” Chris exclaimed, suddenly aware of what he’d just said. “Right! Of course! There is no poison here. None. So. Yes.”  
  
JC looked away, scuffing the ground with his toe.  
  
Joey just sighed and rolled his eyes.  
  
  
Dinner had been a conversation-less, awkward affair, and JC was just about to not-think about what caused it by checking in on his Faerie dragon when he heard a very loud “Hi,” by his ear.   
  
He startled, then exhaled when Chris plopped down beside him. “Uh, hi,” he replied, hesitantly.  
  
“So, I’m sorry about earlier,” Chris said, apologetically, “I’m always sticking my foot in my mouth. It tastes like chicken, just so you know.”  
  
JC let out a startled laugh, then shook his head, glad for the distraction. Anything that took his mind off Joey and what he’d seen that afternoon was more than welcome. “It’s okay, and no, I didn’t know. Oh, and I’m sorry about, uh, you know,” JC put both his hands on his neck, and pulled a face, “The day before.”  
  
Chris snorted with laughter. “Forget about it. You don’t trust easy; I know how that goes.”  
  
JC smiled back, a little, and Chris watched him stroke a finger tenderly over the Faerie dragon for a moment. “So, like, she doesn’t have a name or anything?”  
  
“Well,” JC sounded amused, “It’s not like she can tell me what it is.”  
  
Chris pursed his lips. “She looks like a Nina,” he said, decisively.  
  
“Yeah?” JC murmured, glancing up at Chris briefly. His smile grew sad when he looked back down at the dragon sleeping in his hand. “Yeah, I guess she does.”  
  
  
For the first time in three days, JC spent his morning at the clearing, waiting impatiently for the sun to rise. Joey had flatly refused to go back to the Putao bushes till there was ample sunlight, and JC was raring to leave.  
  
Still, if he hadn’t been so worried about Jayla, he would’ve enjoyed the respite. Lance was humming to himself as he prepared breakfast and finished washing the berries that he hadn’t been able to the previous night; Chris was hanging around him, “to keep you on your toes, Bass, because you’re going to get old if you keep pottering around like this and we don’t want that.” and studiously not talking to Justin, who was nowhere in sight, anyway; Joey was sharpening his dagger, and checking to make sure that his equipment was all in place and ready for the journey.  
  
JC chanced a smile.  
  
Then a sudden, sharp ache in his chest wiped the smile right off his face. _Babe? Babe, are you okay?_  
  
There was a long pause, and JC a wave of panic come crashing down over him. _Jayla?_   
  
The reply was faint, and a long time coming, but it came. _I’m fine._  
  
JC released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. _You are not, under any circumstances, going to do what you did yesterday. You hear me? You’re supposed to be resting, not swooping in to rescue me, and breathing fire at other dragons!  
  
You said… you’d be careful._  
  
JC felt a pang of guilt at the reproach in her voice, and his anger subsided. _I know. I’m sorry. Now rest. I’ll be with you in a couple of days, and we’ll fix this together._  
  
  
It was high noon before Joey and JC finally made it back to the Putao bushes. JC had looked frazzled all morning, but here he seemed calmer, like having a job made him feel a little more settled.  
  
Joey tugged a hand through his hair. It probably wasn’t his place, but having witnessed what he had, it just felt like he needed to know. “Jayce? What happened, that day?”  
  
They both knew JC wouldn’t have to ask to know what Joey was asking, but it took him a moment to reply. “I don’t know,” he answered, “I remember the house burning down. I remember screaming and crying and choking on the fumes. I remember passing out.” He glanced at Joey. “When I woke up I was in a cave. And there was a dragon’s egg, right there; it hatched right in front of me. And I just knew.”  
  
Joey nodded, wordlessly, and went back to plucking the berries, but he could feel JC’s gaze lingering on him, like he expected a response.  
  
Joey thought of everything they’d been through together; their xunlian tribe had been a happy one, and they’d learned many, many things together. Unfortunately, the dragons had come, one fateful night, and JC had been left behind, taken for dead. Joey had never quite gotten over it.  
  
He tried to imagine himself in JC’s shoes, with the mountain of obstacles in his path. “How did you survive it?” he asked, awe in his voice.  
  
“I just looked at it as my duli walk come early,” JC replied with a small smile. “I was alone, in the wild, completely unarmed save what little skill I’d learned. Fits the criteria.”  
  
“You weren’t of age!” Joey exclaimed, trying to imagine himself in JC’s situation. He couldn’t. “You had years of training left before they’d even have considered you ready for the duli walk!”  
  
JC’s shrug was deprecating. “Wasn’t much else I could do.”  
  
Joey looked at him for a long, long while. Then he smiled, almost incredulously. “They always said you were meant for greater things.”  
  
The slow smile that tugged at JC’s lips felt like a sign. Joey’s smile softened, and with a start he realized he’d crushed the Putao between his fingers. “Shit.”  
  
JC’s eyes met his, sparkling with laughter.   
  
And that was the moment they heard the dragon roar.   
  
JC’s head whipped around. His breath caught in his throat. “Jayla,” he whispered, urgently. Then his eyes rolled back in his head as his knees gave way.  
  
Joey barely managed to catch him before his head hit the ground. “Fuck! Jayce!”  
  
“They never tell you this during xunlian,” JC murmured, faintly.  
  
“Which this?” Joey asked, keeping his voice low, soothing, as he checked JC’s pulse and ran his hands over JC’s forehead, trying to keep himself calm.   
  
“It’s a funny thing: if a dragon-rider dies, so does his dragon.”   
  
“Mmm,” Joey replied, humoring him. That was the first thing they’d been taught about dragon riders - why they were so precious. “I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?’  
  
JC ignored him. “They never tell you it works the other way, too.”  
  
  
“And nothing’s working?” Lance murmured, keeping a lookout for Chris despite the fact that Chris had specifically said he wouldn’t be back before dinner.  
  
“Nothing,” Justin sounded aggravated. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”  
  
“Talking to him might be a good idea,” Lance suggested, dryly.  
  
Justin barked out a laugh. “I’m saving that for the day I want to see him go out there looking to be killed.”  
  
It was true, that much Lance knew. Chris had a guilt complex that wouldn’t quit. He licked his lips. “A white lie never hurt anyone.”  
  
Justin’s eyes widened. “You mean, I should tell him…” Justin frowned, dropping his eyes to the ground. “I don’t know how to pretend I’m happy without my Power.”  
  
Lance exhaled, loudly, and ran a hand through his hair. “You know, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the only one out of all of us here _without_ a mate.”  
  
“Which is why you’re the only one we can come to for advice.” Justin knew a hint when he heard one, though. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, starting to walk away.   
  
Lance bit his lip. “J,” he called, “Joe and I - we waited as long as we could for the blood.” He shook his head, almost guiltily, “Maybe if we’d waited a while, we’d have found a way to keep your Power intact without the blood, but… We had to put your life first.”  
  
Justin paused, but not for long. “I know,” he said finally, and then he was gone.  
  
Lance watched his retreating back for a moment, then went back to peeling the last of the Putaos. He’d barely finished one when Joey tore back into the clearing. JC was leaning against him, one arm slung around Joey’s neck, Joey’s free arm curled around his waist. “Lance!” he barked, and Lance had a clean mat spread out on the ground before Joey could say anything else.  
  
Joey lay JC down, gingerly, his eyes flashing. “I’m going to go back for the Putaos,” he growled. “Watch him.”  
  
Lance nodded, glancing down at JC as Joey left the clearing again, this time alone.  
  
  
 _Joshua?  
  
…  
  
Joshua?_  
  
  
When JC awoke, it was with a start, Jayla’s voice ringing frenziedly in his ears. He sat up slowly, pressing his hand to his chest. It hurt to even breathe.  
  
“Good, you’re awake.”  
  
JC turned at the sound of Lance’s voice. “What?”  
  
“You’ve been out for almost an entire day.” Lance raised a wooden bowl to JC’s lips. “Now drink up.”  
  
JC had taken all of one sip when Joey walked into the clearing. He was on his feet in a second, and for a second his head spun, but Joey caught him before he fell. “Did I slow you down?” JC asked, squeezing his eyes shut. “Are we still on schedule?”  
  
“Ahead of it,” Joey told him, reassuringly.  
  
There was dawning realization in JC’s voice. “I was slowing you down.”  
  
“Not by much,” Joey promised, laying a gentle hand on JC’s shoulder. “I enjoyed the company.”  
  
JC opened his eyes, frowning, and immediately Joey knew he’d said the wrong thing. “Thank you,” JC spat out, coldly, “For enjoying my company while my family is _dying_.”  
  
He shook Joey’s touch off, and stalked away before anyone could stop him.  
  
Lance watched him go. “Joe--”  
  
“It’s okay,” Joey told him, scrubbing a weary hand over his eyes. He held out six satchels with his free hand “He’ll be back. In the meantime, help me sort these out, will you?”  
  
  
It was close to dinner by the time Lance was done washing and peeling the Putaos, but Joey didn’t seem too worried about the fact that JC wasn’t back yet, so Lance didn’t push. He glanced over at Chris, who was setting up the fire.  
  
“J,” Chris never took his eyes off the firewood in front of him, “You wanna help me out with the fire?”  
  
It was the first time they’d spoken that day; Chris’ way of calling a truce.  
  
Justin froze for a moment, and that finally caught Joey’s attention. He exchanged a panicked glance with Lance. “He hasn’t told him?” Joey mouthed, and Lance shook his head, vehemently. “What? Why not?”  
  
“Like you’d have the guts to say anything,” Lance mouthed back, with a hard look.   
  
“What?” Chris’ voice was loud in the sudden silence. Even JC had looked up from where he’d been tending the Faerie dragon. His eyes took on a hard edge. “What’s happening?”  
  
Justin glanced at Lance, then at Joey, who nodded encouragingly, before taking a deep breath. “I think,” his voice was quiet, “There’s something I should tell you.”  
  
Chris stood, studying his face for a good, hard minute. This time, when he touched his hand to Justin’s cheek, Justin didn’t move away, just looked back, perfectly still. Chris’ eyes filled with understanding as he pulled back. “Your Power…” Chris murmured, finally.  
  
Justin nodded, almost like he was holding his breath. “But I’m alive,” he whispered, as Chris threaded their fingers together.  
  
“Yeah,” Chris said, softly, looking at their interlinked hands. “Yeah, you are.”  
  
  
Joey was bent over the concoction, trying to keep the fire at a steady temperature, when JC returned finally returned to the clearing. His eyes were unreadable, but he came to Joey first, without pre-empt, wearing a trite expression. “I’m sorry about going off at you like that,” he said, finally, after an eternity of staring at Joey and having Joey stare back. “I had my bearings wrong and… I’m just �" I was scared.”   
  
There was a long pause.  
  
“I know,” Joey said finally, with a careless shrug, “It’s been a while. Doesn’t mean I don’t still know you.”  
  
JC sat beside him in companionable silence for a minute, then reached out to touch his arm. Joey looked up at that, and JC was smiling, a little, and moving closer, and then they were kissing, so softly and quickly that Joey wasn’t sure it had actually happened. He blinked when JC pulled back. “Thank you for staying out for me last night.”  
  
“I was doing it for the dragons,” Joey countered, and JC’s quiet laughter was the best apology he’d ever received.  
  
  
The brew took four hours to boil, and in that time, Joey managed to tell each of them, repeatedly, that he didn’t want any of them but Lance around when he fed Nina the mixture. “It won’t be pretty,” Joey had warned, and JC had finally yielded and agreed to wait elsewhere till they knew the results for sure.  
  
Justin found him by the lake, almost asleep. He sat himself down beside JC, unceremoniously. “So you’re the boy.”  
  
JC blinked, coming awake in an instant. “What?”   
  
“The boy Joey always talks about,” Justin clarified, with a sunny, guileless smile. “The one he loved and left behind. He’s been beating himself up for _years_ for not telling you sooner.”  
  
“What?” JC repeated blankly.  
  
“Kidding,” Justin replied, laughing as he got to his feet and dusted himself off, but he was sure that the glint in his eyes as he walked away would leave JC wondering. _5… 4… 3… 2… 1._  
  
“Hey,” JC called, and Justin stopped in his tracks, trying not to grin as he turned to face JC. The older man looked uncertain, but he finally shook his head and said, “Where are you and your mate holing up?”   
  
  
That night, when Joey went in search for the rest of his tribe, he found them, along with JC, sitting around a fire, exchanging stories.  
  
“This does not bode well,” he commented. “I leave you alone for a couple of hours and these two jokers win you over?”   
  
Justin grinned. “Well, you know us, loveable to the core. Oh, hey, how come you never told us you how badly you fared as a Mage?”  
  
Chris howled with laughter.   
  
“I can’t believe you told them about that,” Joey said, caught between a groan and a laugh, as he settled down beside JC. He wasn’t sure what had caused the change in the mood, but he was willing to go along with it, if it kept that smile on JC’s face.  
  
The smile on JC’s lips had faded by the time Joey sat down. “I know it’s too early to know for sure,” he murmured, “But how’s Nina doing?”  
  
“She’s doing well,” Joey said, with a nod, “We should know by tomorrow. That’s why I came looking for you.”  
  
JC looked up into Joey’s face, all traces of mirth suddenly gone. “Let’s go.”  
  
  
 _Hold on, babe. We can beat this. Hold on for me._  
  
  
When they got back to the clearing, Lance was kneeling by the fire, eyes fixed on the Faerie dragon before him.  
  
“How is she?” JC asked, in a hushed whisper, settling beside Lance.  
  
“We’re going to have to wait and see,” Lance replied.  
  
Justin crossed his fingers behind his back, and Chris glanced at JC with a reassuring smile.  
  
Joey came round to stand behind JC, touching his shoulder gently.  
  
JC closed his eyes, and hoped.  
  
  
Two hours later, Nina’s wings had regained some of their color.  
  
Four hours after that, JC’s fingernails dug into Joey’s palm as they watched her struggle to stand on her own.  
  
The next morning, JC buried his face in Joey’s shirt when Nina stretched her wings and flew.  
  
  
“It’ll buy them a couple of months, four tops,” Joey told him seriously. “You’re going to need to find a permanent cure.”  
  
JC looked at them wordlessly, weighing his options. He’d just sent Jayla off with a new batch of medicine for the other dragons, and they were in the process of making more.   
  
_Be careful,_ she’d said. _Don’t give your trust too easily. You know better now._   
  
The silence seemed to stretch on forever. “I have something to confess,” he said, finally. “I haven’t exactly told you everything about the dragons.”  
  
Lance’s expression tightened, like he was saying ‘I knew this was coming’.   
  
JC drew a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure it’s not the other dragons behind this poisoning.”  
  
“What?”   
  
JC bit his lip, and hoped he was making the right choice, “I think someone’s trying to stake his claim over the Worlds. The poisoning, the Wyverns, they’re just part of his plan for _this_ World. And I’m hoping you’ll help me stop him.”  
  
  
“It’s ridiculous,” They had reconvened back at the clearing, leaving JC with the promise that they’d be back by nightfall with an answer.  
  
Lance was grim. “If he’s telling the truth…”  
  
“Why is that even an issue?” Joey demanded.  
  
“You’re saying you’ll vouch for him?”  
  
Joey was so riled up that Lance could’ve sworn he was growling. “With my life.”   
  
“Great,” Chris cut in, clapping his hands loudly. “Then he’s telling the truth.”  
  
There was a pause, then Lance nodded.  
  
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said, a frown etched on his face. His eyes were fixed on Joey’s. “Dragons are our primary source of food and clothing. If we were in another World, we’d probably be able to find something else to replace it, but we’re here, and there isn’t a something else. Sheep are sparse as it is, so unless we help him, or start eating each other, we’re at a dead end.”  
  
There was silence for a moment as the reality of their situation set in, and Lance glanced around the circle of people, all with their heads bowed.  
  
Chris was the first to look up. “Well,” he said, solemnly, “I vote we start with Joey. We could live a long time off of him.”  
  
Justin guffawed and smacked Chris over the head. Just like that, the tension broke, and Lance chanced a brief, small smile. He exchanged a look with Chris, receiving a wink and a thumbs-up in reply.   
  
For now, Lance thought -- as Joey head-butted Justin, who was still laughing -- he was willing to believe that things really would turn out okay.  
  
  
“We came to tell you that we’ve reached an agreement.”  
  
“We did, anyway,” Chris added, pointing to himself and Justin and Lance. “He,” Chris jerked his thumb at Joey, “Just came to see you.”  
  
JC could read them well enough by then that he didn’t need them to go on to know what their answer was. His voice stuck in his throat for a second as he looked at the four men standing before him. They were all smiling, and he had to resist the urge to reach over and hug them all. “ _Thank_ you.”  
  
  
They didn’t need words, never had, and there was so much _emotion_ in his chest that JC was sure it was going to spill over, spread into Joey’s sweet, soft mouth. He never wanted to stop kissing Joey.   
  
Joey’s hands were gentle as they carded through his hair, gentle as they stripped him of his cloak, gentle as they explored his body, every curve, every plane, and JC couldn’t stop purring, or from arching up into the warmth of Joey’s body.  
  
“JC,” Joey whispered, against his jaw, and JC shivered, running his hands over Joey’s broad back, struggling with the fabric till it finally relented and oh, finally, _finally_ , that was Joey’s skin against his own, so warm and exactly what he’d always wanted, needed, yes Joey _please_.  
  
Joey’s mouth slid away from his own, and JC nipped at his collarbone, wanting to taste him again, taste sunshine and sweetness on his own lips. But then Joey’s tongue dipped into the hollow of his throat, and JC felt a tingle go down his spine. He wanted to wrap himself in this feeling, in Joey, and when Joey whispered, “Okay?” he nodded and Joey shifted and oh, _oh,_ it was more than okay, so much more, god, yes.  
  
His fingers traveled down Joey’s back, and then dipped lower, and Joey groaned, long and low, as he pulled JC even closer, and JC felt the tremors run all the way down his body. “God, JC,” Joey whispered, panted, breathless and gorgeous and oh, how had they waited so long?  
  
“Not waiting anymore,” JC murmured, as he threaded his hands through Joey’s hair. Then he smiled, flipped Joey over, mouthed “my turn” against Joey’s skin, and Joey looks at him with such wonder that he laughed. Joey leaned up and kissed him again, so hard that his laughter died and all he knew was the feel of Joey’s mouth and Joey’s skin and Joey’s touch.   
  
  
Later that night, when they were lying side by side in the clearing, watching the stars and Chris and Justin fight and Lance attempt to cook something without dragon meat, JC realized that he had nowhere else to go.  
  
Not with Jayla gone, saving the only family he’d ever had. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” he said out loud, almost disbelievingly.  
  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Joey replied, quietly, glancing over and meeting his eyes with a soft smile. “You know, we’re going to need a new Mage when we go for battle, and from what I hear, you cook a lot better than Lance or Chris can.”  
  
JC looked up at him, almost hopefully.  
  
“Hey JC!” Chris yelled, from where he was kindling the fire with Justin a couple of feet away, “Just so you know, that’s jackass speak for ‘stay’!”   
  
“Forever!” Justin chimed in.  
  
“Fuck off!” Joey shouted back, but he was looking at JC, and he was grinning, and maybe everything wasn’t right in the Worlds just yet, but it would be. Until then, this would be enough.


End file.
